Snow
by xBleedingBlackRosex
Summary: Prompt: "Kurt loves Blaine's curls" and "Blaine loves Kurt's hands." Why I Love You series: What Blaine and Kurt love about one another.


**For the ****_Why I Love You_**** prompt by SragonZ, AquaDays, and purses-and-tennis-raquets: ****_Kurt loves Blaine's curls_****. And by aunthay: ****_Blaine loves Kurt's hands._**

**I love snow. I love Klaine. Wow, Ripple, combine the two? That's genius!**

…

_Looking around, Kurt could not help but smile._

_The Christmas tree twinkled in the corner, adorned with ornaments from both sides of the family. Snow was falling softly outside the window. Carols were playing in the background faintly. His husband was sprawled on the floor in front of the fireplace, soaking up its warmth, while Kurt sat reading on the couch. Their daughter was sound asleep in her crib. Everything was peaceful, comfortable, good._

"_Honey?"_

"_Hmm?" Blaine hummed, eye still lazily watching the dancing flames, as if observing a story play out before him._

"_Merry Christmas, love."_

_Blaine turned to see his husband of five years smiling down at him, just as beautiful as he'd been when they'd first met. Wordlessly, he got to his feet, crossed the room in three steps, and pressed his lips to Kurt's. He responded eagerly, leaning up into the kiss._

"_I love you..." Blaine murmured._

_Kurt's fingers found their way to Blaine's dark curls, immediately intertwining themselves amidst the silky thickness. His forgotten book slipped to the floor with a-_

_Thud._

Kurt awoke. He looked around frantically. The tree was gone; there was no sleeping baby in a crib, no evening snowfall, no fire; his book lay open on the floor beside his bed. The only remains of the dream was his boyfriend, Blaine.

"You up yet, sweetie?" he asked gently, clearly amused by Kurt's early-morning disorientation. "I hate to wake you, but I want to do this photoshoot before the sun gets too high in the sky..."

Kurt groaned and rubbed his eyes. His alarm clock informed him that it was six in the morning. _Saturday_ morning. The last time he'd been up this early on a weekend had been when his father was in the hospital. Nevertheless, he had agreed to do this for Blaine's photography assignment, and he was never one to turn down a chance to spend alone time with him, even if it _was_ school-related. So he dragged himself out of bed and over to his wardrobe.

"What do you want me to wear?"

Blaine seemed stumped. "Um, I don't know..."

Kurt frowned at him. "You don't even know what you want your model to _wear_?"

Blaine grinned sheepishly and joined Kurt in front of the wardrobe. "Well, I have a vague idea..."

…

Half an hour later, the two of them emerged into the crisp February air – Blaine in a knee-length black coat over his uniform, Kurt in black skinny jeans, a white long-sleeved undershirt, a long sleeveless black cashmere sweater with silver swirls across the chest, and a beige overcoat. Simple, by his standards, but Blaine insisted that it was what he wanted. They made their way across the snow-covered courtyard and into the trees surrounding Dalton's campus, walking just far enough in so that the snow was untouched. The bare trees, and the scattered evergreens, did little to block the rising sun from piercing through their branches, making the snow glisten pink and gold and lighting up their breath when they exhaled. It was gorgeous. It almost made getting up so insanely early worth it. Almost.

"Wait, stop," Blaine commanded out of the blue, taking a step back from Kurt and raising his camera. It was one of those fancy ones that tourists always had around their necks. His parents had bought it for him when he decided to take Photography this semester. "Okay, keep walking. Pretend I'm not here." Kurt flashed him a smile before facing ahead and doing as he was told. He could hear the whir of the shutter and did his best to ignore it, to look as natural as possible.

Blaine was in awe, to say the least.

He knew his boyfriend was gorgeous. He'd known that from the second they met, and over time the sentiment was only strengthened. But there was something about the rosy, heavenly glow of the rising sun on Kurt's flawless pale skin, the distant look in his glasz eyes, the faint lingering smile on his lips, the way the gentle breeze picked at his coat and rustled his hair. It all had such an air of mystique and peace to it. He knew that he would never be able to fully capture the scene's beauty in its entirety through his lens. But he sure as hell would try his best.

They spent a good hour out there in the snow, gradually wandering deeper and deeper into the woods so that they could keep using unblemished snow for a backdrop. By the end of it, Kurt was shivering and Blaine had gotten well over three hundred shots.

"Let's go in," he suggested when the sun had lost its orange tint. "Warm you up a bit..."

Kurt nodded eagerly, attempting to stop his teeth from chattering. Blaine frowned – just how cold _was_ he? – and quickly wrapped his arm around Kurt's shoulders. He could feel him quivering. Guilt raised its ugly head.

"Are you alright?"

Kurt smiled at him. "Spiffy," he assured. "Dandy. Positively splendorous."

Blaine raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he hurried them along back towards Dalton, suddenly very anxious to get the poor boy inside and warmed up. As soon as they made it through the front doors, he could feel Kurt relax a little.

"Go take a hot shower and change into some warm pajamas," Blaine suggested, steering him towards the staircase. "I'll get the fire going in the Warbler Hall."

Kurt nodded and shuffled off down the corridor towards his room. Blaine watched him go for a moment before rushing to get the fire started. There were a couple Warblers already in the room, but he hardly noticed them as he ran back out and retrieved a couple spare blankets from the linen closet at the end of the corridor. He draped them onto the couch closest to the fire, then dashed to the shared kitchen and made two mugs of hot chocolate.

Kurt appeared just as he was setting the mugs down on the side-table.

"Hmm, it's nice and warm in here," he murmured appreciatively. Blaine ushered him to the couch and offered him one of the hot cocoas, which he accepted happily. The other Warblers had the sense to leave then, tossing parting smiles and waves to the couple as they closed the door behind them. Kurt and Blaine were left alone in the Warbler Hall. This suited them both quite fine. Kurt curled up under the blankets with Blaine, sipping his hot chocolate and gazing serenely at the fire. Blaine could feel even through their clothing how cold he still was, though.

"So, you never told me...What was the assignment?" Kurt wondered.

Blaine drew him closer, trying to lend him his own body heat. "The beauty of solitude," he confessed. "The instant Ms. Peters told us about it, I knew I wanted to use you for my shots" – Kurt blushed, making Blaine grin – "but I was stuck on where I wanted to take them. A dorm room, the Senior Commons, the courtyard...But then I realized that all of those places were too public. When- When I was younger, I used to go on early morning walks with my mother in the woods near my house. And I remember how stunning and relaxed everything was, when the nocturnal animals were falling asleep again and the diurnal ones hadn't quite gotten up yet. It was like I had the entire forest all to myself. It was nice..."

Kurt did not speak immediately. Instead, he set his nearly empty cup down on the side-table and brushed Blaine's hair back from his forehead. "It sounds to me like _you_ would have been the better model for this photoshoot."

Blaine dropped his gaze, embarrassed. "No...I- I couldn't...I mean...You..." He was finding it very hard to come up with full sentences. Kurt's fingers were now running through his hair, breaking up what little gel he'd put in it that morning and no doubt leaving it a dark, curly mess. But he couldn't bring himself to care, because _oh holy sweet mother of all things beautiful_, it felt amazing. "You're way more model-esque than me," he finally managed to get out.

Kurt smiled softly at him. "Not from where I'm laying..." He suddenly recalled the dream he'd had that night, and his smile grew even wider. He allowed himself to bury his fingers in the curls at the back of Blaine's head and pull him forwards, their lips meeting.

"I can't wait to see how those pictures come out," he whispered.

Blaine leaned back in for another lazy, languid kiss. "You'll be the first to see them," he promised.

And then Kurt began to play with his hair again, and he forgot about the photoshoot, and the hot cocoa, and the fire, and the entire school. He forgot about everything except Kurt's soft, magical hands.

…

**Excuse me while I stifle my squealing with a giant stuffed platypus. HOW CAN THEY BE SO BEAUTIFUL? My creys.**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


End file.
